Escaping the Sand
by Demon-of-Asgard
Summary: After being exiled from Asgard along with her father, Raven is summoned by Loki to serve him as the general of his army. Using her skills, she will try alongside him to reclaim her seat in Asgard and avenge the deaths of her mother and father. Through any crisis, she will stand. Reviews welcome. My first fic! Raven is about equivalent to a teen, Loki an adult.
1. Chapter 1

I lie huddled in a tight ball, trying to protect myself from the howling winds that pull up sand from the nearby dunes. I am not built for this environment. My father had not been either. Since his and my exile from Asgard over 500 years ago, his life had been claimed by dehydration. He had given up fighting it. I held him in my arms as his last words slipped from him with his last breath:

"Promise me, child. Reclaim what is yours. My Raven…"

All I could say back was "Father, I swear it." He did not hear me.

My mother had been long destroyed by the time of his death. She was a demon, a guardian of death that cared for the people of Midgard after they passed away from their world. Once news of my birth had reached the ears of Odin All-father, her life force was torn apart forever. I saw it happen. I was helpless. But a life shared by a God and a demon was doomed to fail from the start, as Odin had said. But on that day I made a vow to avenge her, and I would do anything to fulfil that vow. And with my father's death, I had another reason.

But I have not yet found a way off the planet that serves as my prison. No one from any other realm visits me. But do not assume that means I have given up. I search night and day for anything that could help me in anyway. I am so far unsuccessful. But every night I say that I will not allow myself to fall into despair as my father had done. Raven, friend of darkness, does not give up.

The sand storm subsides, and I slowly uncurl and dust myself off. I turn to make my way back to the small cave I have made my home. But I stop. Staring into the distance, I see something new on the horizon; a bright beam of light, seemingly shooting down from the evening sky. I freeze, studying it intently. I have heard of these before. The light comes from the gateway in Asgard, and appears when someone wishes to travel from there to another world. Is this a blessing, or a curse? A new inhabitant, maybe. Or a hidden friend in Asgard, offering me an escape from this hell hole I've been trapped in these past years. I decide on the latter, and sprint for the light.


	2. Chapter 2

I discover that the beam coming down from the sky had created a huge crater where there once was a dune. As I slide down its side to investigate further, the light ceases almost a suddenly as it had started. In the centre of the newly made dish were what seem from afar to be several bundles of cloth, dyed a dark yellow. I decide to make nothing of it, and walk towards it some more. I stop however, when the bundles stand up, revealing long flowing robes, golden half helms and weapons. I know the attire. It is that of the guards of Asgard. Fear grips me hard, and I turn to flee from the crater. The guards unfortunately have already spotted me. They spread out behind me in a huge arc, and begin to run, closing in on me from all sides. But I am running too. Another advantage I have is that the guards have no power outside Asgard. I do.

I let loose a huge blast of purple energy from my fist into the guards behind me, knocking a few of them into the sand. But there are still others running. I spot a tower of red stone and leap behind it before putting my next tactic into action. Closing my eyes, I allow my soul to release itself from my body, and it flies up, into the first group of ravens it finds. The birds that bear my name have always been friends to me, and I can occupy their bodies almost as easily as I can my own. I can also reside in more than one of them, controlling whole flocks if I choose to. That is what I am doing now. I swoop down into the face of the closest guard, and scratch with sharp talons at his eyes. He beats me off, but cannot go further in the chase. My hundreds of eyes see the rest of the company advancing. I release the birds and sprint from my hiding place. I have but one trick left that may save me yet. I arrive back to the cave where I had been living in my years of imprisonment. The guards block off the entrance and my escape route.

"You have nowhere else to run, prisoner Raven," calls one of my pursuers. "Surrender now."

"Oh, you misunderstand," I reply, "for I am done running. But I will not yield to you, Asgardian!"

I retreat into the shadows, so the guards cannot see me. I stay there hidden, but the Asgardians think they see me try to run past them. They launch themselves at me, but as soon as their hands 'touch' my shoulders, I disappear. All they had focused on was a replication of me, not the real me. A common trick used by most demons of the Universe, it's surprising they did not anticipate it. I run for a gap in the line. I am so close to evading them, when a net of sorts is thrown over me, tangling in my limbs and pinning me to the ground. I try to throw it off by releasing a blast of energy, but nothing comes when I command it to.

"Your skills are of no use to you now, prisoner!" cries a voice, the speaker of which I cannot see. "This net is pure wound silver."

I should've been ready for this. Pure metals inhibit my power, meaning my tricks are useless if I am in contact with it. Of course they knew that, and I should've known they knew that. I let out a scream of frustration, and resort to struggling violently in an attempt to escape. All I succeed in doing is tying myself up further. I collapse to the ground, and allow the guards to drag me back to where they first arrived

"Wait!" I shout. I have no idea what I am trying to do by asking the guards anything, but I still proceed to do so. "Who is it you are taking me to? Odin?"

"Odin All-father has fallen into Odin sleep."

"So his son, Thor." Thor had been a young prince when I was first banished. Older than myself, but younger than my father or mother. He was heir, so if Odin could not rule, he would take his place.

"Thor was banished for disobeying the direct orders of Odin. Loki is on the throne."

"Loki…" I remembered him too. A thin, pale youth, with a piercing stare and high cheekbones, who stood behind his brother and father on the day of my exile.

"Yes," replies the guard. I note the distain in his voice. I could use this to my advantage. I had always been a talented talker, and I could lie more easily than I told the truth. At least, that is what my father had said to me. He had told me stories of those like me. From what he had said, I had gathered that Loki himself had the same skill in speech.

"You do not approve of Loki as a king?" I ask.

"No talking! Do not presume to twist my words, prisoner! Heimdall, open the gate!"

I start to answer, but the beam of light I saw before appears again in the sky, this time pulling us up with it. I am dragged up by the guards. I do not know where I am going, or what Loki plans to have done with me. But I am off the wretched planet that I was confined to. That was all that mattered to me.


	3. Chapter 3

The beam of light stops, and almost immediately the nausea kicks in. My head spins as I struggle to regain my bearings. When I do, I see that I am standing in what seems to be a hall of pure darkness, with nothing in it other than a small wooden chair.

"My king, we have the prisoner!" shouts one of the guards into the darkness.

"I can see that," replies a voice. It seems to echo all around the chamber, making it impossible to know where the voice is coming from. Suddenly, the guards begin half marching, half dragging me towards the chair in the centre, and the wound silver net is removed along the way. I am forced to sit, and they bind my hands.

"Leave us," says the voice.

I hear the guards retreat into the shadows, and after a cry of "Heimdall!" the beam shoots down and pulls the guards away. Leaving me alone, bound to a chair in a room with the king of Asgard. I am frightened, though I dare not show it.

"Where am I?" I venture.

"You and I stand in the abyss between worlds," replies the voice. "Specially built to conceal those who… do not wish to be seen."

"And why am I here?"

"I needed to discuss something with you, Raven."

"You know my name?"

"Of course." The voice is closer, and I hear traces of amusement in it. He is enjoying my discomfort.

"How?" I demand.

"Always questioning," he sniggers. His voice is closer still, a few paces behind me at most.

"Who are you?"

Suddenly he is close enough for me to feel his breath on the back of my neck as he whispers his reply.

"Do not try to fool me, girl! You know who I am as well as I know you!" And then there he is. Standing in front of me, resplendent in flowing green and gold robes, a staff taller than himself and a helmet with horns pointing high to the ceiling. I, in a ragged black and purple tunic, weather beaten and ripped, feel dwarfed by his presence.

"I am Loki of Asgard, king of all realms while Odin sleeps."

"But that does not explain why you need me," I say "I thought your father or the gatekeeper would have some way of stopping you from doing this."

He laughs. "Even the gatekeeper's eyes cannot penetrate this realm. As for Odin… he is not my father. He revealed to me before he fell into Odin sleep, that I am not his blood. I am Loki Laufeyson, not Odinson."

"Then we are more alike than I thought," I counter. "I am half Demon, you half Frost giant. Is that why you need my help? You need someone you can trust, and not many Asgardians I know would offer that."

He nods with a smirk on his face, and begins to wander slowly around the chair I am bound to. Neither of us speaks for a few minutes. Loki is the first to break the silence.

"You are right, of course. No Asgardian in their right mind would trust me. But, unless I am mistaken… you are no Asgardian. Not since you and your father's banishment. Am I correct, Raven?" He is. I still do not see why I am here though.

"My final question," I murmur. "Why am I here?" He is stood behind me again, and not being able to see him makes me even more anxious.

"Simple." That's all he says, before I hear the sound of a blade sliding from a sheath. I breathe in sharply. I hear him snigger again. I struggle in my bonds, but they do not come lose.

"You are here because…" I feel the cold metal of the blade on my wrists. And feel it slide through the bindings keeping me to the chair, "I needed to ask for your help."

I spring up from the chair, and fix my eyes to his, keeping my hands in position ready to fight if necessary. My face is stony. He is trying to keep himself from laughter.

"Suspicious girl, aren't you? Why do you fear me, I only wish to ask for your help?"

"I am suspicious for a reason, Loki. Unlike most others, I know why you are named Silver tongue!"

"I have heard you called the same," he replies slyly. We circle each other slowly, keeping the chair between us. I know that if it came to battle he would defeat me, but I would at least be able to inflict some damage. Never surrender if there is even a glimmer of hope, as my father used to say.

"You have the skill that would allow me to gain what I need!" Loki insists.

"What do you _need_ so badly?" I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

"I will explain when we return to Asgard."

"Ha! You forget, I am banned from Asgard, without express permission from the king!"

"I am the king now, and I give you that permission."

I stop dead. He offers me freely what I have been working towards getting from the start of my imprisonment, all because he needs my skills to achieve something.

"What must I do?" I enquire, hardly daring to breathe

"Swear fealty to me. That alone."

"I do not serve others. I do only what benefits me," I reply. I see the smirk slide from his face. He knows how to manipulate me, and I know how to manipulate him. "I will not stand behind you. However… I will stand beside you. Work with you as a partner. Only if I benefit will I serve."

"Then it is done. Kneel." I walk round the chair and drop to one knee before him. I say what is needed.

"I, Raven, swear fealty to Loki, king of Asgard. I swear to serve to the best of my abilities. I swear to remain loyal. And I swear to stand until he sees fit to release me from his service, or death sees fit to take me to its embrace."

"And I swear to give what should be given, reward what should be rewarded, and treat you as an equal and an ally. Rise, and I name you advisor and warrior."

I rise, and my eyes meet those belonging to my king.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews, Forbidden Moons! I did base her slightly on the Greenseers from ASOIAF, and here is the update you asked for. Enjoy!**

**Xx**

"So, how do I return? I cannot enter through the Bifrost – I will be seen!" I say, my initial anxiousness forgotten.

"No, you cannot," Loki replies, his tone suddenly business-like "but there are other ways." He turns, and walks into the darkness. I follow, unsure of what I will find. To my eyes there is nothing, but even in my exile I know of Loki's reputation; his ability to conjure tricks from thin air, and much more. Without warning, he drops the tall golden staff to the floor, which lets out a resonating clash that seems to shake my very being. I look away and shake my head, trying to regain my stability, and when I look ahead again I see how I will return. A gilded boat of Asgard, capable of drifting through air just as it would through water, was waiting for us. The last time I had travelled in such a craft was when my family and I were being taken from our home to face justice in the halls of the All-father. I had crouched in my mother's arms, unaware of what they would do to her when we arrived. But then I was a child. Now, I am older and wiser. But my king is older still. He sees my face change when I set my eyes on the craft, and knows what I feel.

"That time is past, child," he says, his voice soft, almost close to soothing.

"I am no child!" I spit back defensively, and I climb into the boat. He steps in behind, puts down his staff and takes the boat to the air. Before I know it, we race off into the darkness. I can feel the movement as my black hair streams behind me, but I cannot see it. The darkness is constant. Or so I thought, as light appears either side of the craft, slowly engulfing us. I close my eyes; it's blinding, the light mixed in with the wind in my eyes. When I open them again, we are over open water, and looming before us is the great palace of Asgard. I hate the place, but its beauty still takes my breath away. With grand towers and gleaming walkways, it's a world away from the desert planet I was confined to. More than a world away.

"How will we get to the palace unseen?" I shout, over the roaring wind.

"The guards only look where they are told to look," replies Loki, "and they are not told to look this way!" I hear pangs of glee in his voice as he swings the craft round under the bridge from the Bifrost. It occurs to me that when Asgard was first created, secret tunnels and passages must've been made for the residents to cower in if an attack was launched. So therefore, there must be entrances into the palace that have not been discovered by the guards. I am proved right when we fly through a seemingly normal crack in the stone and stop in a hollowed out chasm directly below the great hall of Asgard.

I clamber gracelessly out, my legs shaking from the exhilaration of the trip. I see a small smile on my king's face as he steps out after me.

"And what now?" I ask.

"Now we need to find you some suitable attire. As advisor to the king and heir to your father's titles, you no longer deserve to look like a common prisoner."

"Indeed," I say. I look down at myself; my black and purple tunic is ripped and torn, my breeches dusty. My boots are worn and my leather jerkin is falling to pieces. And my hair, once sleek and flowing like a waterfall, has become a tangled black mane.

Loki indicates for me to follow him, and I do so. As we travel, the corridors become slowly grander, and before long we are striding through the palace itself. No guards appear, but I can't help feeling nervous. Every shadow becomes a hiding soldier, and every movement becomes a palace guard. I have never been so on edge.

We turn down a smaller but still grand corridor, and stop at a tapestry. It depicts a great battle between an old Asgardian king and the Dark Elves. It is immaculately stitched, but before I can pick out any details, Loki sweeps it aside to reveal another door. I can't help but smirk at how obvious some of these hiding places are. I push open the door, and stand in a small, dusty room, with nothing in it apart from a rotting oaken chair, upon which lay garments. I walk further in, and Loki does not follow.

"When you are suitably dressed, meet me in the main hall. You know how to get there, I trust?" he asks. I nod, and close the door behind me. Looking back to the clothes on the chair, I see that they are almost identical to what I am already wearing; a black and purple tunic with long sleeves and a skirt that ends just above my knees, a hardened leather waistcoat, black breeches and black boots. Accompanying them are black leather arm guards that match my jerkin, and a circlet that lies on my brow and keeps my long hair out of my eyes. It all seems average, but looking closer I see that it is far from that. Anything but that. Silver threads run in spirals all over the fabric of the shirt, and within the leather of the jerkin and armguards there is fortified armour plating. Hidden beneath the grandeur of the clothing of an Asgardian princess, there is everything I need as a warrior. I smile to myself as I pull on my new garments. I feel so alive, so fresh. When I pick up my armguards, I notice another detail; pockets, in which lie many silver blades. I pull one out and lay it on my palm. It's a perfect circle, thin and light with a razor sharp edge. I can feel the strength in it. I hold it in my fingertips, studying it, and then flick my wrist, letting it fly through the air, before it embeds itself deep in the wood of the chair. If the chair had been a person, it would've cut straight through to the bone. I return the blade to its pouch in my armguard, and walk briskly from the room.

Despite not being here in over 500 years, I still know my way around the palace. There is a map of it lodged in my mind that I will never be rid of. I detest being here, and yet I focus my mind in putting one foot in front of the other, and getting to the hall. However, this is a flawed plan, as I do not see the patrol heading my way until they nearly lay eyes on me. I leap behind a convenient column and transform myself into a young male guard. Another of my tricks that has been useful, I note. I wait until the patrol passes, and return to my natural form. I do not encounter anyone else until I reach the hall itself. I turn a corner into it, and stop dead.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as I see the marble flooring, the golden columns and exquisite carvings on the wall, every memory is brought back and magnified tenfold. Once again, I feel the guards pulling me from my mother's arms, and hear my father telling me to look away. But I did not, so I can still see her kneeling in before Odin, I see him bring his hand down and I see her crumple to the floor, unmoving. Everything seems real, too real, with sounds louder and crystal clear. I keep telling myself that all I see is not true and it is just my imagination, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot convince myself that this is true. I just continue to stare, the vision playing over and over again.

"None of this is real," a voice says, causing the scene in my head to vanish and my heart to jolt. I look up, and see Loki sitting on the throne, a pitiful look in his eyes.

"I know that," I reply, "Just seeing it all again made me – I tried to forget, and I didn't. Being here proved that."

"This is a traumatic experience for you, I understand-"

"No, you do not," I interrupt. "You may have been standing there, hiding behind the All-Father, but you have no idea what I felt. You never can!" I cannot stop my voice from rising, until I can hear it echoing back at me. "I was torn from my homeland by Asgardian soldiers, who then burnt my village to the ground, killing all who lived there. Dragged to these halls to face judgement for a crime that did not exist! Not only did my mother die that day, but deep down in his heart, my father died with her. I lost everything, standing here, and when I screamed for her what did you do? What did everyone else watching do?"

He does not answer.

"Nothing. That's what was done, nothing!" And before I can stop myself, I feel hot tears welling up in my eyes. But I do not let them show; I cannot seem to be weak.

"You think that I have not suffered within these walls?" Loki asks. He seems at first unfazed by my outburst, but looking closer I can see pain in his eyes. He continues, "I stood in the vaults below your feet when I discovered that my entire life was a lie. My father is the one I have been fighting against and the one whom I have feared all my life. The man I lived with and tried to make proud is in fact my kidnapper." He pauses, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "You said yourself, we are both outcasts. And we have both suffered. This is why I need you to understand me, just as I need to understand you. Do you agree?"

I cannot answer. I am shocked at how open he is with me about all that happened to him here, and at how composed he is. All I can do is nod to show that I do agree.

"We cannot dwell on this," he abruptly says, "for we have work to do." He gestures for me to approach the throne, and I do so. In some way, his composure has helped me regain mine, for I no longer have tears in my eyes and no longer feel like screaming. When I am standing before him, he speaks again. "Now, show me what you can do." It sounds courteous, but I know better than to see it as anything less than a command.

I relax, let my eyes roll back in my head for a second and then focus, letting my spirit fly into a group of ravens in the palace rookery. I fly from the tower and through one of the arched windows at the back of the hall, swirling through the air. I see myself standing stock still at that foot of the steps to the throne, and I see Loki, staring in wonderment at the birds. I release them and return to my own body.

"Impressive," he murmurs. "What else?" I look away from him as I prepare to show off again. I have a small smile on my face, as a blast of purple fire shoots from my fist and scorches the columns and floor. Loki is smiling openly now.

"Is that all?"

"No," I answer. "There is one more thing." That's when I appear from behind his throne, walk in through the doors, run down the stairs and more. Countless copies of me stand around the room, and Loki is laughing as they begin transforming. Guards, Dark Elves, even Midgardians stand around the hall, and for the first time since before my exile I feel truly free. My copies then vanish as quickly as they appeared, and once again we stand alone.

"That is all," I gasp, realising that I am out of breath when I begin to speak.

"For someone as young as yourself, your powers are indeed advanced," Loki says through laughter. "However, you cannot allow your emotions to show when you fight. It is a weakness that you cannot afford to have."

"Of course." I look up at my king, and immediately question what I see, because for some reason, he appears to be both sitting on the throne and standing behind it. I blink, and the figure behind the throne is Thor, resplendent in a ruby red clock and silver helmet. Then it is a guard, then a fair haired woman, then Odin All-Father. And then I understand; I have shown my powers, and now Loki is displaying his. Each transformation flickers by for less than a second, but Loki still sits, a smug smile on his face as they pass. I cannot help but smile, as I had thought that I would never meet another with my powers of transformation and replication since my mother's death and my banishment. I do not break my gaze until I feel movement around my feet. Looking down, I see hundreds of black and blue banded snakes slithering around my feet. I try to jump away, but I cannot move. The God of Mischief certainly lives up to his name, I think to myself.

"You see, our skills would be well matched. Do you agree?" he asks.

"I do," I answer.

"And there are those in this kingdom who would kill you on sight, and I cannot allow that to happen. For my plan to work, we need each other."

"You never did specify… what exactly is your plan?"

"Why, I mean to remain on the throne. I mean to return all Nine Realms to peace under my rule. And I mean to return your birth right, your father's seat in Asgard, to you. That is my plan. Will you help me carry it out?"

"I will."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry the chapters are taking so long, but I have school getting in the way, so I don't have much spare time. You'll have to wait it out, I'm afraid, and I'll try and get each chappy to you ASAP.**

***hugs***

The days that passed after my arrival in Asgard felt like a dream. I spent most of them in another form, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the palace's inhabitants. In doing this, I managed to learn more than I ever thought I would. Their strengths, their weaknesses, their tactics, their fears; all were revealed to me. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif would speak freely in my presence, unaware that the young guardsman that stood in the corner was not all he seemed. Of course, I had heard of them before. When I was a young child, Lady Sif had been a hero of mine, and had first inspired me to pick up weapons and learn the art of combat. But hearing her speak about the banishment of Thor, I could tell that she was not as icy and as strong as many people believed. She spoke of him with more than respect, and although she never in fact said anything to confirm her feelings, she never said anything to deny them. She fought in the traditional Asgardian style, which was to stand your ground no matter what was returning blows. A brave tactic, but stupid.

Volstagg could not go for more than an hour without a meal, but despite his size still he was a formidable fighter. Vandral always needed some form of recognition for his actions, or he would not perform them in the first place, and he fought like every battle was a performance. And Hogen always dreamed of his homeland, and his fighting style was that of his people.

I do not pass this information on to my king; I store it in the dark corners of my mind, for I feel that on day I may need it.

However, despite my initial comfort hiding in Asgard's halls, I cannot shake the feeling of unease. Whenever I pass Heimdall, the gold clad sentry, and feel his eyes on me, it grows still. For now I dismiss it; I have to concentrate on blending in, and one mistake in my disguise could mean my death.

For now I stand on a platform, overlooking the kingdom of Asgard. I check every direction before relaxing, returning to my true form. My eyes roam over the city before me, as well as the rainbow patterned bridge leading to the Bifrost. Loki had told me to keep my eyes open for his return from Jotunheim and the business he had to attend there. He had done the same only yesterday, visiting Thor in his banishment to tell him of his father's death. He had admired this suggestion from me, and taken it up immediately.

I do not mind being left in Asgard, as someone needs to make sure that the kingdom itself remains unaware of mine and Loki's plans.

As my eyes scan the vast realm below, a flash of white light signals that my king has returned. I don the guise of a serving boy, and make my way to the vast palace entrance, where he waits for me. We duck into an unoccupied chamber, allowing me to become myself again. Only then do I realise that my king is in great distress, and it shows clearly.

"Is anything amiss?" I ask.

"I do not know. Possibly," he replies. "I believe Heimdall suspects me. He could not see me in Jotunheim, and that worried him."

"We cannot let unconfirmed thoughts and suspicions hinder us, My Lord," I say, briskly. "I feel uneasy around the gatekeeper also, but letting that bother me will only arouse further distrust."

Loki nods, his face relaxing.

"However," I continue, "that does not mean we can let our guard down. I will keep watching the kingdom with my ravens, and alert you if anything is wrong."

"Good," Loki sighs. "Thank you for your council, Lady Raven. I must visit Frigga. Keeping her thinking I still care for her is vital."

I say nothing to indicate that I know my king is lying. The woman he called his mother still holds a place in his heart, and even though he denies his love for her, it is still obvious to me.

I make my way to the top of the highest tower in Asgard disguised again as a serving boy, and think of my mother. Her death was so long ago that I hardly remember her face. But I remember her voice. To me, her lullabies were sweeter than the songs of morning birds, and I know every word she sang as well as I know my reflection. I do not weep when I think of her, but a sad smile makes its way to my face as I climb the final steps to the top of the tower. I check for any observers before becoming me again. I breathe in the cold air and relax, possessing a lone raven and flying high above the golden palace. Before I am able to lose sight of the kingdom completely, something catches my eye; a white beam of light emanating from the golden dome of the Bifrost. I dive down, just in time to see the Warriors Three and Lady Sif vanish. I return to my body, and run to inform my king.


End file.
